


a recipe for disaster and love

by hullomoon



Category: Schitt's Creek
Genre: Alternate Universe - Different First Meeting, Baking, M/M, Meet-Ugly, of sorts
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-13
Updated: 2021-01-13
Packaged: 2021-03-18 03:54:12
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,752
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28736805
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hullomoon/pseuds/hullomoon
Summary: David loves the Annual Bake Sale, unfortunately, this year the cookie he just ate was the worse thing ever, and now he has to talk to the baker and tell him so.
Relationships: Patrick Brewer/David Rose
Comments: 40
Kudos: 109





	a recipe for disaster and love

**Author's Note:**

  * For [dairaliz](https://archiveofourown.org/users/dairaliz/gifts).



> Happy Birthday Daira! I'm so happy to call you a friend and this is just one way to say thank you for all that you do.

The Annual Schitt’s Creek Bake Sale was David’s favorite day. Each year was dedicated to a specific fundraiser and while he appreciated that his money would be going to a worthy cause what he really wanted was the tasty treats that the townspeople made. 

He carefully perused the booths, while he debated what he’d get this year. Jocelyn’s Nanaimo bars? Ivan’s tarts? Twyla’s trail mix? Then his eyes swiveled to his favorite booth. Ray’s. David had been surprised the first year to learn that Ray was an excellent baker. Brownies, cakes, cookies, hell even his homemade ice cream was good. 

When he asked why Ray didn’t turn this into a business, Ray had just smiled and told him that some things were better off as a hobby.

“Hello, David. What do you want this year?” Ray asked.

David glanced at the table. One tray held a neat row of three different types of cookies, a few trays of brownies, two cakes, and three pies. 

“I think I’ll have a dozen of the cookies, a mix of flavors if you can, and then a tray of brownies.”

“That’ll be fifteen dollars,” Ray replied as he started to put the cookies in a small sack.

He handed over his money and Ray gave him his sweets.

“Thanks, Ray,” David said as he walked away to find a quiet spot to begin eating. He spotted Bob’s bench, brushed off the leaves, and sat down. He opened the sack and breathed in the sugary, buttery, chocolatey scent of the baked goods. David snuck a hand in and grabbed a brownie. 

It was rich and fudgy with dark chocolate chips scattered throughout, its bitter taste off-setting the sweetness of the brownie. He let out a groan and kicked out his feet a bit. The brownie was gone in four more bites and David reached back into the sack for another treat.

It was a cookie studded with chocolate and caramel chips with what appeared to be pecans. He took a big bite and instantly spat it out. What had Ray done? It was the worst cookie he’d ever eaten, overly salty and the pecans hadn’t been toasted making them feel like sad lumps.

David got up from the bench and marched back to Ray’s booth. There was a small crowd around the table and he impatiently tapped his foot while he waited for his turn. When he stepped up to the table Ray smiled.

“David, what a delight to see you again. Do you want some more treats?”

“No, thank you, Ray. I have a question, did you try the dark chocolate caramel cookies?”

“I haven’t had the chance yet. Are they good?” 

“No.” David leaned down to get closer to Ray. “These are the worst cookies I’ve eaten. Ray what happened?”

Ray’s eyes grew wide. “Oh, I didn’t make those cookies.”

“Then why are you selling them,” David hissed.

“My roommate, Patrick, made them,” Ray whispered and nodded his head to the right.

David looked over to see a pale, brown-haired man helping someone over at the next table. He briefly tracked the way the man’s shirt stretched taut across his chest and his forearms flexed.

He thrust the other half of the cookie at Ray. “Here, try it.”

Ray grabbed the cookie and took a small bite and after one chew, discreetly spat it into a napkin. “I’ll get rid of the others. Luckily, you’re the only one who bought any.”

“Lucky me,” David said under his breath.

“I do have a favor to ask though,” Ray started.

David steeled himself. One of the many things he learned in this town was whenever someone asked him to do a favor it wasn’t a suggestion, but instead a task.

“Could you break it to Patrick? I don’t have the heart to tell him.”

He lightly clenched his fist. It wasn’t ‘Helping Roland choose a shirt for Jocelyn to role play in’ bad, but it wasn’t the easiest either.

“Sure,” David replied.

Ray beamed. “Thank you, David. I knew you would do it.”

David stepped away from the table and let the next person in line move forward. He took a deep breath. This would be fine. It wasn’t like Patrick would react angrily, Ray probably didn’t just want the awkwardness of living with someone after you told them their food was awful. He walked over to the table and was accosted by Patrick’s small smile and expressive eyes.

“Is there anything I can help you with?”

“I need a quick word with you, can we just go over to the side?” David asked as he gestured to the small grassy area behind the tables.

“Sure,” Patrick replied.

“Sooo,” David started, “you made the dark chocolate caramel cookies.” 

“Yes,” Patrick said, the grin on his face growing. “It’s my mom’s recipe.”

David winced. “Uh, it’s come to my attention that they, ah, aren’t the best.”

Patrick crossed his arms and raised a faint brow. “Are you a cookie inspector?”

“No, just a concerned citizen.” David rummaged through the sack and pulled out the cookie. “Try it.”

Patrick grabbed it, took a bite, and spat it out. “How could this be so bad? I followed the recipe!”

David shrugged. “It happens. What I don’t know is why didn’t you try any before you started to sell them.”

Patrick put his head in his hands. “I didn’t think about it,” he whispered. “God, I can’t believe we’ve been selling these.”

David fiddled with his rings. “There’s some good news about that. Um, I’m actually the only one who bought those so you don’t have to worry about the whole town thinking you can’t bake.”

Patrick laughed. “Well, I’m glad there’s some good news.”

David stared at Patrick. All he knew about him was that he made shitty cookies and yet, there was something about him that had David wanting to get to know him better.

“I could show you how to make cookies,” he blurted.

“And how do I know you’re any better than me?”

“I’ve spent a lot of time after break-ups eating cookies. At some point, you start making your own that way you can just move them from freezer to oven.”

Patrick’s face softened. “Sure, how about you come to Ray’s place tonight.”

“Oh, uh, that’s a bit soon. I’d have to get the ingredients together.”

Patrick held out a hand. “Don’t worry about that, I still have everything from the previous attempt.”

“Then I’ll see you later tonight.”

“Okay, David.”

\---

As David stepped through the threshold, he realized he’d never been inside of Ray’s house before. The living room area appeared to be mostly all business-related and David had to get out of the way of a Ray cardboard cut-out advertising his photography business.

“I have everything laid out and ready to go,” Patrick said.

David turned his attention back to Patrick and was proud of himself for glancing down at Patrick’s denim-clad ass only once, okay maybe twice.

The kitchen had floral wallpaper and appliances that had been there since the 80s. He sighed in relief when he spotted the mixer in the corner.

“Do you have the recipe?”

Patrick strode to the counter and plucked up an index card. “Here it is.”

David took it and glanced through the instructions. They were written in a precise cursive and everything seemed simple enough.

“We need to start by creaming the butter and sugar together. Do you have an apron?”

Patrick walked to the far side of the kitchen and grabbed an apron off the hook.

David took it and grimaced as he saw it said “I Can Give You Some Sugar.’ He gingerly put it on and then moved over to the mixer and the ingredients.

“Is this the Amish butter?”

“I guess? Ray said he gets it from a friend,” Patrick replied.

He stood closer than David expected and all he thought about was how easy it would be for Patrick to fuck him on the counter. Which is something he shouldn’t be thinking about. He was over here simply to help Patrick make cookies that weren’t a disgrace.

The process went much smoother than David expected and Patrick seemed fairly competent. It wasn’t until they got to the salt that David learned how Patrick messed up the first time around.

“That’s a tablespoon.”

“Isn’t that what we need?”

David waved his hands around him. “Oh my god, no. It says teaspoon, not a tablespoon. No wonder your cookies tasted like that.”

Patrick blushed. “I feel so ridiculous right now.”

“It isn't the worst mistake. My sister once thought my dad wanted 12 gallons of milk instead of pints. It was a disaster.”

Patrick chuckled. “That makes me feel a bit better.”

They continued to work in tandem and soon there were a dozen cookies baking in the oven. Patrick set a timer and they moved to the couch.

“I have a confession to make.”

“I hope it isn’t that you lure men with your awful baking and kidnap them.”

“Nothing like that. It’s, ah, more embarrassing. I was actually trying to impress you with those cookies.”

David furrowed his brows. “But you didn’t know me yet.”

“Actually, I kind of do? When I moved in I mentioned to Ray that I was gay and then he started talking about the community here and he mentioned you. I used to work at a Rose Video and we always got the holiday card and then there was that one year your family was in the promo posters.”

David grimaced. He’d forgotten about those posters. He’d been an awkward, gangly, seventeen-year-old and felt ridiculous the whole time. 

Patrick continued. “It wasn’t until I was older that I realized I had a crush on you. A few days later, Ray mentioned the Bake Sale and how much you like it and I thought, well, maybe I could charm you with my baking,” he gave a small laugh, “Obviously, that didn’t work.”

David placed a hand on Patrick’s knee. “I don’t know, your baking got me in your house so I think you could call it a success.”

He watched as Patrick’s chest rose with slightly labored breath. “Really?”

David smiled. “Really.”

He began to lean in to kiss Patrick when the timer went off.

“Fuck.”

Patrick placed a hand over David’s. “Don’t worry I’ll go check on them and then we can return back to this.”

As David watched Patrick walk away, he couldn’t stop smiling. 

**Author's Note:**

> If you want to chat or see more works, I'm [hullomoon](HTTP://hullomoon.tumblr.com/) on tumblr!


End file.
